The Amorae Potion

Chapter 6 - U-Bends & Ghosts

By, Daydreamer

//Snape started to curse. "Damn it all!" He crumpled up the paper and tossed it violently across the room. It bounced off a mini-statue of Gillwort the Gay and rolled onto the floor right at Ginny’s feet. -- Then, with a few more obscenely detailed expletives, Snape stormed straight towards Ginny, who quickly backed away from him in fear, not trusting the mad glint that was in his eyes nor the rudely sounding words spilling out of his mouth in a inventive flood, switching from English to Goblin then Elvish and a few others she couldn’t identify.//

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Snape went right into Dumbledore’s office without so much as a knock, which Ginny found oddly strange. Of course, Slytherins never did have many manners, but still, it was only common curtsey to knock first before entering somebody’s office. And Dumbledore was Snape’s superior no less. Maybe he’ll get in trouble, Ginny thought hopefully.

Snape dragged her roughly with him towards the center of the office towards Dumbledore’s desk, which was half buried in books, parchments, and quills. "Professor Dumbledore, I have a student here who claims you gave--huh?" As he got closer he saw that the seat, which had been hidden until now behind the great pile of assorted junk on the desk, was vacant. "Headmaster Dumbledore?" he called, confused.

No answer.

Ginny looked around her quickly at the whole room, not even daring to hope. Could he not be here? The circular room certainly appeared to be deserted. Her eyes swept over the entire room, noting that the only sign that anyone ever was in here was a old Wizards’ cloak hung haphazardly on a hat-stand besides Fawkes’ cage. Her gaze went back to a strange cabinet next to the trash bin to the right of Dumbledore’s desk. It looked hardly used and had a strange aura around it, more strange, that is, then the rest of the room since it all was giving off rather odd vibes.

Ginny had only been in Dumbledore’s office once and had never gotten a good look at it before. She raised her head at the pictures circling above their heads of the old Headmasters and Mistresses of Hogwarts who were sitting in their picture frames snoozing contentedly with some of their great beards blowing slightly with each exhaled breath.

I wonder if they ever wake up... she thought wistfully to herself as she stared up at them.

A trimmer of a note vibrated through the room and a reddish gold bird landed softly her shoulder, taking her by surprise. She gasped and looked over at the phoenix quickly. "Oh, it’s only you, Fawkes," she said in relief.

It had been a while since Ginny had seen Fawkes Three years in fact. --Ever since her first year when Harry had rescued her from the Chamber of....

Ginny shook her head violently. No. It would not do to remember that experience right now. She had gotten over that. Tom was gone, right? No more thinking about it. It was over.

Fawkes sent another trimmer of exotic notes through the room as if it wanted to soothe her. It rubbed its beak affectionately against Ginny’s cheek, and she smiled at the phoenix.

"Headmaster Dumbledore?" Snape suddenly called loudly beside Ginny, sending her ear ringing. "Headmaster?"

Snape released Ginny’s arm and stepped away from her. She massaged it gratefully.

He went behind the desk and ducked his head underneath it. Not finding anything, he reappeared and swept his eyes over the desktop. Stuck between a pencil holder and paperweight in the shape of a quaffle was a white piece of paper. He picked it up and read the loopy handwriting on it. It read:

I have gone to help Professor Sprout with a little project of her’s. Anyone who is wishing to see me may find me at Greenhouse 3 next to the Herbology room.

Thank you and have a nice day,

Albus Dumbledore

Snape started to curse. "Damn it all!" He crumpled up the paper and tossed it violently across the room. It bounced off a mini-statue of Gillwort the Gay and rolled onto the floor right at Ginny’s feet.

Then, with a few more obscenely detailed expletives, Snape stormed straight towards Ginny, who quickly backed away from him in fear, not trusting the mad glint that was in his eyes nor the rudely sounding words spilling out of his mouth in a inventive flood, switching from English to Goblin then Elvish and a few others she couldn’t identify. She raised her arms and shut her eyes, braising herself for an attack of some kind but, to her surprise, Snape walked straight past her, towards the office doorway. It was almost like he hadn’t even see her until...

"Take the Sorting Hat and get out!" Snape snarled from over his shoulder, pausing just long enough to send Ginny a powerful death glare. Then with a swept of his arm, he flew through the doorway and out of the room, his back robes, flowing like solidified liquid waves of night black, trailing behind him.

The door slammed shut immediately after he left, making Ginny jump as she stared slightly confused at the place Snape had been but a second ago.

What....Just...Happened.... she wondered.

Her gaze fell down at the crumpled paper that was at her feet. She stooped down slowly and picked it up, uncrumpling it. The flowery cursive and wide loops made it rather difficult for her to read it, but after about two minutes of examining it, she was finally about to completely decipher the whole letter. Her eyes widened. So that’s where Dumbledore went!

She looked up from the letter and bit the bottom of her lip in worry. Now what was she to do? Should she risk going down to third Greenhouse after him? What if she ran into Snape again? Well that was simple; she’d just tell him she was going to give Dumbledore the Sorting Hat but...

Ginny looked around the room carefully and spotted the tattered magical wizard’s hat that had sorted her into Gryffindor her first year sitting on top of a stack of ancient textbooks on a shelf to the far right of Dumbledore’s desk. She went over to it and picked it up.

A fine layer of dust fell off it when she raised it, clouding the air around her a moment and causing her to sneeze.

"Bless you," came a gruff sounding voice from the Hat.

"Oh, thanks," she said gratefully before stopping and giving a gasp. "Wait a minute...Did you just say something?"

The Hat didn’t respond except in continuing to lie still in Ginny’s hands.

Ginny held the Hat up to her face and peered at it more closely. She counted seven frayed patches on it, thirteen tiny tears and holes, and found three moths nesting in it when she turned it over to look inside.

The Hat didn’t make a sound all the while. Must’ve been my imagination, she resolved at last with a shrug.

Hugging the Hat to her chest tightly in her arms, she headed out of the room. Fawkes gave a sweet-sounding chirp of farewell after her as she waved at him before shutting the door behind her

While she walked down the stairwell towards the Gargoyle statue, Ginny thought she heard something....

"Hee, hee, nice bust you got there, little lady...."

She looked around her confused then down at the Hat lying innocently in her arms. She looked up again, then back down, getting slightly red in the face. "I’m going crazy," she said to herself. She stopped hugging the Hat to her chest and tucked it under her arm anyway, just to be safe.

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Gotta get away! Gotta run and hide! Gotta find Dumbledore! Gotta kill Ginny! Gotta...

Harry swerved down another hallway; beads of sweat dribbling down his face. Can’t let her catch me! he swore to himself, picking up speed. While he ran images of what had all happened to him started flashing in his mind... Hermione, McGonagall, Ms. Norris, and now Angelina.... Why? Why was all this happening to him? What did he do so wrong? Was this repayment for Cedric’s death maybe?

As if in answer, Harry came abruptly skidding to a halt, going whiter then a sheet.

Oh shit! Two shadows creeping on the wall up ahead of him where the hallways meet were coming towards him. One had long bushy hair and the other with what looked to be a bun held together by two chopsticks. They were coming his way down the hallway that lead to the Great Hall.

Harry’s heart skipped a beat. The Great Hall?!

They were talking, their voices echoed softly through the hallway, the click of their shoes getting louder.

"He must not be around here.... Perhaps the Tower?" Once of the voices said in a cat-like drawl, rolling the ‘r’s and saying the words in a purr.

"No, no, he’s close. I know it.... Keep looking. He can’t be much farther. Trust me."

"I still think we should try the Tower."

"Harry knows that the Gryffindor Tower will be the first place we’ll check."

"Mmmm, his name’s so delicious to hear.... Say it again, will you?"

There was a sigh. "Don’t be such a child, Ms. Granger. Grow up before I take twenty points from Gryffindor."

"Oh, you like to hear it too. I know you do."

"Don’t be silly. I--"

"Haaarry Potter."

There was a pause and a purr. "... Do it again."

"Haaaaarry Potter."

"Ooow, it is rather pleasant sounding..."

"Told you."

I think I’m going to be sick.... Harry thought to himself miserably, his feet frozen where he was standing. Actually, he really was starting to feel sick. The familiar nausea he had felt when he was with Angelina came back to him. He pressed his lips tightly shut to keep from throwing up and desperately looked from right to left for a place to hide.

McGonagall’s and Hermione’s voices were getting louder. They were about to turn the corner!

Harry swallowed and dove into the nearest doorway to his left right as they two women appeared around the bend. The door was miraculously open. Harry stumbled in and slammed the door behind him shut, locking it securely with trembling fingers.

Not wasting a moment, as soon as he was done, he quickly pressed his ear against the doorway, listening with baited breath as Hermione and McGonagall came closer. They soon were by his door, their voices sending Goosebumps along Harry’s arms.

"--Don’t really understand why Harry’s trying to avoid us. After all, we won’t hurt him."

"Probably just shy. Bless him, he’s such a brave thing! The moment I laid eyes on him when he was a baby with that awful scar carved on his forehead, I knew right then that he and I were meant to..."

"Don’t you think he’s a little young for you, Professor?"

"Love has no boundaries, Granger... And thirty points from Gryffindor for your lip. Harry and I were destined for one another, I tell you."

"Well, I get him too. Don’t forget that we were paired together by Rita Skeeter."

"But what about dear, little Weasley?

"What about him?"

"Come, Come, Ms. Granger, you ought to really stay with your boyfriend. Besides, Harry needs a woman of experience. A woman who can..."

Their voices died away as they turned down another hall.

Harry waited until all was quiet before giving a great sigh of relief. He turned and leaned heavily against the door, sliding down to the floor in a heap, completely exhausted. "Whew! That sure was a close one!" he said out loud with his eyes closed. Feeling drained from all the stress and running, he just sat there for a while.

"What was a close one?" a voice in front of him asked curiously all of the sudden.

Harry’s eyes snapped open in a flash. In an instant the widened as his mouth dropped. That voice…. He knew that voice...No. No! It couldn't be…he thought to himself. Of all the places I could have gone to hid... I couldn’t have possibly gone into...

"Are you alright, Harry? You look a little pale," Myrtle said, floating above Harry with a worried frown.

Moaning Myrtle’s Bathroom! Harry looked up at Moaning Myrtle in horror. Her face was solemn, half-covered by her glasses and transparent freckles. The ghost was watching him with interest, hovering above him a bit, looking happier then he had ever seen her (The moment with Hermione being turned into a cat-girl their second year excluded, of course). A massive groan escaped his throat. Oh, man! Why not just kill me now?

"Oh, hi, Myrtle!" he said with fake cheerfulness while secretly praying the Amorae Potion didn’t affect ghosts. "How’s it going for you?"

Myrtle puckered her lips and sniffed. "Fine, but what are you doing in here? This is the girls’ restroom, you know."

"Er, I, uh, just came to visit you, that’s all."

"Really?" Myrtle asked suspiciously, her eyes threatening to fill with tears.

"Uh, yeah. Of course!" Harry said quickly. "I told you I would, right?"

"Yes, well that was ages ago."

"Umm, sorry about that," Harry said lamely.

"Why haven’t you tried to visit me before?" Myrtle asked woefully floating around Harry as he got to his feet and rubbed the back of his neck.

"I’ve been.... Busy," stated Harry, not sure what else to say.

"Too busy to even say hi?"

"Er...."

"Oh, I see how it is," she stated, her lips trembling. "You’ve been avoiding me, haven’t you?"

"Well---"

"Yes, that’s it, isn’t it?" The tears were flowing now. They fell in big transparent drops, disappearing as they rolled off her chin to the floor. "No one wants to actually see pathetic Myrtle, do they? Oh, no! They’re too busy with their own lives to care about stupid Moaning Myrtle!"

"T-That’s not true, Myrtle," Harry protested, backing away from the wailing ghost. Hermione had warned him once that he had never actually seen a real Myrtle fit.

‘You wouldn’t want to either,’ she had said with a sure nod. ‘Honestly, I don’t understand that ghost. What’s wrong with being dead? There’s over fifty ghosts in this school and none of them seem to care much.’

‘I think Myrtle’s always been miserable even when she was alive,’ Ron had said before taking a large bite out of the head of a chocolate frog he had pulled from his pocket. It’s legs started flailing around helplessly between his fingers. Hermione wrinkled her nose in disgust.

‘What?’ Ron asked her, still chewing greedily on the head.

Hermione had merely glared at him.

"Not true, huh? Isn’t it though?" Myrtle demanded loudly.

"I-I came to visit you right now, didn’t I?"

"Yes....well..." Myrtle floated forward some, brushing through Harry’s arm.

Harry really wished she wouldn’t; it felt like ice buckets had been dumped on him. He shivered.

Myrtle went off a little ways to sulk, tears continued to stream down her face.

The shivering didn’t quit. Really, it started growing. Harry rubbed his arms to warm them up but as he did his stomach started to hurt again. A fluttery feeling welled up in it. Oh no, not again! He thought to himself.

It was horrible. Like a knife in his side. Harry doubled over and pressed his hands tightly against his ribs. He groaned in agony.

Myrtle’s sobbing stopped, and she looked over her shoulder at Harry. "Harry?" she said softly.

Wincing, Harry opened one of his eyes and looked up painfully at Myrtle. He tried to respond but couldn’t. His vision was becoming cloudy.

She floated towards him slowly, a peculiar look coming over her face.

"You doing alright?" she asked.

"...I’m...F-Fine....," he said, straining to keep his voice steady.

Myrtle reached over hesitantly towards Harry’s face. Her icy hand barely touched his cheek before she hastily withdrew it. A blush spreading along her pale white cheeks. Her eyes took on an odd glow, sparking underneath the lenses of her glasses. "You know, it’s ashamed you’re alive," she whispered to Harry.

The convulsive shivering stopped and the pain in Harry’s stomach lessened. He looked up in shock at Myrtle. "W-What was that?" he asked.

Myrtle’s eyelids sunk low over her eyes, a weird smile spread along her face. "You would be such a wonderful boyfriend to have if you were a ghost," she stated wistfully. "Just imagine all the fun we could have, Harry. You, me, and the U-bend...."

"Uhhh...."

"Did you ever want to have children, Harry? I sure did. At least, before I...." She didn’t complete the thought; she was slowly coming towards Harry. She took hold of Harry’s arms, tugging him towards her bathroom stall. "Why don’t you join me, Harry?" she asked hopefully. "You and I could go away together then. Can’t you just picture it all!"

Harry did, and the thought nearly made him violently sick again. "A-Are you really suggesting that I.... kill myself?"

Myrtle’s eyes lit up. "Yes! It would be so romantic! You’d be doing it for me."

"But....I don’t want to die!"

"Really?" Myrtle looked thoughtful for a moment then shrugged. "Too bad."

"WHAT?"

Harry struggled wildly as Myrtle dragged him towards her toilet. It was only when she sunk through it, pulling him with her did he realize just what she was planning to do. "You seriously aren’t going to try and drown me in the toilet, are you?"

Myrtle just smirked in response, pulling harder on his arm.

Harry yanked his arm as hard as he could away from her. He fell back into the stall door and stumbled through it. His mind was a jumbled mess of panic. Coming to a stop against one of the sinks, he caught his breath and dived for the door he had come in from. Between two crazy catlike women and a ghost bent on killing him and imprisoning his ghost, he’d chose the cat-women!

He heard a large crash behind him as he unlocked the door and flew through it. He went tearing down the hallway as fast as he could, not looking where he was going until...

WHAP!!

"Hey! Watch where you’re going! I could of....Harry?"

Harry looked down at the person he had tackled and gasped. "Ron?"